Eza Josephine

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Elysian Fields ForeverAdmin

Posts : 68Join date : 2012-03-24

Subject: Eza Josephine Sun Apr 15, 2012 2:28 pm

NAME : Eza Josephine (J in Josephine sounds like an H)AGE : 17RACE : NeophoenixPERSONALITY : Quiet, pessimistic, sarcastic, impatient, groundedPHYSICAL DESCRIPTION : Eza is in no way delicate: she stands at 5' 8" and is big boned. She's curvaceous but covers it up with bulky clothing such as a beat up brown leather jacket with random button-pins nearly covering the entire left side. On her feet she is never seen without her steel toed construction boots except in warmer conditions where she'll down-grade to sneakers. Eza doesn't take the time to worry about fashion sense and instead concerns herself with practicality—clothing doesn't tend to last her long anyway. Her wingspan is about 18 feet of gray-white feathers. However, after molting her wings are 'obnoxiously white' as Eza describes them. When folded her wings can’t be seen from under her leather jacket unless someone is looking for them through the slits cut into the back, or by the bulk of them but that is only very slightly noticeable—again, you’d have to know what you were looking for. Facially, Eza had bold features: her nose is sharp and strong, she has bold mocha colored lips that are less than full, she has angular, near-black brown eyes that are attributed to her Hispanic genes, strong cheekbones and eyebrows that are barely there due to an accident where she nearly singed them off. Her hair is a gold-blonde due to dying it and the roots are beginning to reveal a fudge color close to the scalp. The rest of her hair is long—almost past her shoulder blades—and is worn down most of the time. Sometimes she’ll put it up in a ponytail but because of how tangled it is putting it up is usually just too much effort. Her hair is naturally curly but due to flight it tangles easily and Eza isn’t the type to start carrying around a brush. They say she cleans up nice but Eza hasn’t done that in years.

THE HISTORYEza grew up on a cattle farm in New Mexico. She learned the value of a long days work early and enjoyed it most days. As a kid she was a daddy’s girl and a tomboy; she and her brothers liked to run around in the mud on the rare days when it rained. Third of six, Eza was rarely lonely mostly because she wasn’t given the chance to be. The Josephine house hold was often bustling with some sort of traffic even if the only thing going on was preparing dinner, the entire two story ranch seemed alive with activity. When she was as alone as her family would provide she liked to read comic books or manga, she was never a strong reader so novels didn’t appeal to her as much. Secretly she kept a journal given to her in school for writing as a sketch book because she liked to draw but she never let her siblings or parents catch on. The only one she ever showed her pictures to was her grandfather. Her grandparents on her mother’s side both lived with her and while her grandmother was loud and restless, her grandfather was soft and patient. He encouraged Eza to do what she liked no matter what anyone thought—a notion she still looks back on and drives her screw-the-world attitude. Overall Eza preferred being outdoors; she was athletic and competitive—especially with her brothers. They would often make games out of their chores to see who could do something the fastest. With her sisters Eza was at a lost. Her younger sister followed her around a lot of the time and Eza couldn’t stand that. Having little Rosa constantly underfoot was an argument she’d had with her mother more than once—of course she’d lost but Rosa took the hint and now watched Eza from a distance. Then there was Tierra. Tierra was everything Eza was not: popular in school, feminine, elegant. Eza always had a thick, sturdy body frame but her sister’s was trim and long looking. Eza envied her and occasionally set up booby traps in her makeup drawer.

The day of her eldest sister’s wedding the farm was decorated in daisies and lilies and with white streamers. The backyard held a white lattice archway and white folding chairs. Eza was in charge of making sure the white rose pedals were sprinkled and the white table cloths were straight and the white dress her sister was wearing wouldn’t fall in the vanilla pudding her brother, Nataniel, had bumped into and failed to clean up—Eza didn’t see the point of this request, the pudding was white, so was the dress—but she cleaned it up anyway. During the reception, Eza stood leaning against the open doorway of the barn where everyone was gathered to dance. It had taken 5 hours for her and her siblings to transform the old barn into a dance floor even with 5 of them working on it. But Eza wasn’t one for dances so she looked out at the stars for the moment; she’d even seen a shooting star and had wished on it for her sister’s happiness. Strangely enough, Eza had begun to see a couple shooting stars when they abruptly came into view. She had heard of the Neophoenix from the news, some radical group against the harming of animals it seemed—oh, and they had wings. But whatever this was, falling out of the sky, it was on fire.

It started with a farm adjacent to the Josephines’. The orbs of fire landed on it and were followed by screams of distress. Eza took a baffled step outward—everyone in the barn was deaf to it due to the music—she watched the ranch burst into flame before rushing into the barn to warn the party. But it didn’t matter, it was too late. Neophoenix had come to free the animals that were slaughtered for their meat because this was a prominent ranching district—even if that meant taking lives of their owners.

Eza felt it before anything else. The heat. It rushed in around her and up her spine quicker than it takes a rattlesnake to strike. And then came the sound, like a colliding, breaking, tearing of wood—a sudden gush of wind blew back some party goers who shrieked as their hands flew out to break their fall. Eza turned around to see that pieces of the barn were gone; the southern end of the roof was nearly torn off and ablaze. Screaming filled the room and Eza’s own lungs. Her dress ripped between the mad dash to get to a small, burnt and jagged hole in the side of the barn and squeezing out of it. As soon as she reached the other side she gave a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘hit the ground running’. She took off—with the sound of the further ripping dress protesting in her ears—toward the backyard where the wedding service had been held. She decided to round the fence instead of leaping over it like she would regularly due to her apparel, which was a mistake. Coming around the fence from the other side was a man with long blonde hair whom Eza had never seen before, but his intentions were clear. Something was wrong in his eyes but Eza thought that maybe it was just the reflection of the flames. The man turned to look at her and in that one look seemed to consume her. She came to a screeching halt and began to back slowly away but slowly wasn’t fast enough. The man out stretched his arms and fire emitted from them to engulf Eza.

The flames didn’t emanate like a flamethrower or like a hose, but more like a fan—as if fire extended from the very tips of the man’s fingers. Eza’s screams deafened her and clawed through her throat like razors. The fire coated her like a jacket and she squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face as the pain over took her. She tasted blood as she fell to the ground but a firm grip stopped her descent. She knew without looking that it was the Neophoenix whose hand was on her shoulder but she had only the time to come to this thought before she was thrown into the air, spiraling. Her back hit something—hard—and then nothing.

Nothing was kind of nice after all of that and Eza wasn’t afraid. But then something was shaking her, touching her face, pulling her back to the pain. Her eyes opened and shut rapidly catching glimpses of a pencil thin, brown haired woman with a pinched, worried face. Nothing in her body was functioning correctly: her eyes couldn’t open and stay open, her shoulders twitched, her fingers chronically appeared to be reaching for something though Eza was unaware of their movement, and in her shock, her thought process had flat lined. Her world was a half dream like state and everything was hazy and purple. There was a suddenly pressure against her lips that she felt the need to struggle against but she didn’t know why. Though the touch was soft, maybe even gentle, Eza felt a familiarity toward it but her mind didn’t make the connection. Then the pressure was gone. Eza felt a suddenly sinking sensation and saw that she was floating into the clouds—purple clouds.

The rocking was what awoke her. Eza opened her eyes—squeezed them shut, and then opened them more slowly. She was laying on a good amount of hay scattered evenly on the floor of a horse trailer—which was apparently in motion—and she was naked.

Later she wouldn't find out that the pressure on her lips had been something known as the kiss of death/kiss of life. The kiss of a neophoenix can bring a person back from the dead—but as a neophoenix of course. She would also discover that the woman whom had saved her life had fled from a fight with the leader of Neophoenix, the radical group, and her location was still unknown. The leader of Neophoenix was a man named Aubrey; it was he who had taken Eza and he who had answered her questions—with more than a slight bias. Eza found more information from the other neophoenixes that was less tainted. Aubrey insisted on Eza’s membership to Neophoenix and out of fear—being Aubrey had been the one responsible for Eza’s initial death in the first place—she agreed. However, Eza had no intention of sticking around and luckily for her Neophoenix was about to be brought to an end. The woman responsible for saving Eza—a neophoenix by the name of Elise—had finally had enough of the tyranny and bloodshed. Early, before the dawn, she returned with government reinforces to rid the states of Aubrey’s terrorism. In the fray, Eza took her chance to flee and did so successfully.

Unfortunately Eza does not know much about her own race or what she can do, and even more unfortunate is that she has never found another neophoenix like herself to ask her questions to. Nowadays she lives nomadically as she chooses to see it—not homelessly—and flies where she pleases. For fun as well as profit she gets by as a bounty hunter and isn’t too bad at it thanks to her increased strength, eyesight and speed. She doesn’t tend to keep company—understatement—and instead can be heard muttering to herself in Spanish.